Crimson Tide College

The stale air of the Warehouse smelled faintly of ozone and old leather, a scent I’d come to associate with impending weirdness. Artie was pacing in front of his usual mahogany desk, muttering something about “unforeseen consequences” and “a most peculiar case of… well, let's just say it involves an unusual amount of crimson.”

“Crimson?” Pete asked from behind me as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest.

Artie whirled around, adjusting his spectacles with a flourish. "Indeed! And not merely any crimson, Mr. Lattimer. A rather… potent shade. a shade that can neutralize our purple goo" He paused for dramatic effect before continuing in a hushed tone, “The reports suggest an unusual spread of... shall we say, 'enthusiasm' amongst the local populace.”

Myka snorted from beside me. “Enthusiasm? That’s one way to put it.” She raised an eyebrow at Artie. "So what are we dealing with this time, a rogue disco ball that induces spontaneous tap dancing?"

Artie cleared his throat and pulled out a worn photograph from the drawer of his desk. It depicted a quaint college town nestled amongst rolling hills, bathed in the golden glow of late afternoon sun. A banner strung across Main Street proclaimed "Homecoming Week!" with an image of a grinning bulldog beneath it. "This is Ashtonville, Pennsylvania," Artie announced solemnly. “And we believe this year's homecoming festivities have taken on… unexpected dimensions.”

He pointed to a small red circle drawn around a building in the picture. It was a modest two-story brick structure with a faded sign reading "Jenny’s Sensations" above its door.

“That, my dear agents,” Artie continued, “is where we believe our artifact resides." He tapped his finger on the photo. "A rather… intimate type of object.”

Pete and I exchanged glances. This was going to be good. Or bad. Probably both.

Artie launched into a detailed explanation about how an anonymous tip from a local librarian had alerted them to unusual activity at Jenny’s Sensations, which seemed to specialize in "adult novelties." The librarian mentioned “a strange energy emanating from the shop” and reports of students exhibiting “uncharacteristic… fervor.” He then produced two more photographs: one showing a group of college girls giggling hysterically while draped over each other like drunken ivy, and another depicting a young man with wild eyes and an alarmingly prominent erection attempting to serenade a lamppost.

“So,” Pete said, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he examined the photos, “we’re dealing with some kind of artifact that turns people horny college students?”

Artie grimaced. "Not quite, Mr. Lattimer. More like… amplified desires." He sighed dramatically. "The librarian also mentioned a rather peculiar incident involving a missing professor and an alarming amount of crimson spilled on the floorboards of her office.”

“Crimson,” Myka echoed with a smirk. “I’m starting to get the picture.”

Artie nodded grimly. "Precisely, Ms. Bering. And that's why I need you two to head out there immediately and retrieve this… artifact." He paused for effect before adding in a conspiratorial whisper, "And perhaps try not to succumb to its influence yourselves."